Page 46 of Never Love a Lord
Julian blinked. “Madam came to breakfast?”
Then the nursemaid did crack a little knowing smile. “I believe they shared a bit of porridge.”
A huff of laughter escaped Julian and he shook his head.
“Go on,” the nurse said gently and flapped a hand at him. “See for yourself. Although I wouldn’t interrupt—Madam’s about her business at the moment.”
Julian nodded absently. “Thank you.” And then he turned, half in a daze, toward the archway that would lead him to the hall.
He paused there, his eyes taking in the line of serfs and villagers queued up in the main aisle. Some carried baskets and bundles of goods, and one man held a goat on a woven lead. It seemed a score of children ran about the common tables playing catch-me and hoop, and several women with kerchiefs covering their heads sat on the benches, sampling from platters of sliced breads and pitchers of milk while they gossiped. There was a happy buzz in the air, and the sight was unlike anything Julian had ever imagined seeing in the heretofore luxurious and perfect hall. It was almost like a village fair.
Then his eyes found Sybilla. She was seated on her throne-like chair at her table, Graves standing just behind her and to the side, aloof to the goings-on, as usual. A clerk of some sort sat near her right elbow, a selection of open ledgers spread out before him.
On the table as well, within Sybilla’s curled left arm, sat Lucy, happily tossing and jerking on what seemed to be a string of . . . rubies? The baby squealed and flapped her arms up and down, as if at the wash, and the clatter of the heavy stones rang against the hard and shiny tabletop. Then he saw the twinkle down her front—several necklaces; gold links; fat, tear-shaped emeralds; pearls; topaz—the strands so long and weighty that some were worn across her chubby body, draping over her shoulder like a sash. Each wrist was laden with rings of hammered gold, some falling up to her elbows as she played.
A tiara, which looked to be made of diamonds, sat far back on her head cap.
“My God,” Julian breathed in disbelief. He had never seen so many costly jewels in one place before, outside of the king’s royal outfit, and now his baby daughter was bathing in them, at Sybilla Foxe’s side, while she held court.
“It matters not,” she was saying to the two men before her table. “You didn’t finish the job, and so you don’t deserve payment.”
“I did half of it, though,” the younger man argued petulantly. “He could pay me for half. I need the coin, milady.”
“He didn’t hire you for half a job,” Sybilla said without sympathy. “If you are in such need of coin, quit wasting my time and go finish what you promised to do. When you have completed your task, if your employer thinks the work is worthy, I’m certain he will pay you the agreed-upon amount. That is all.”
“But, milady,” the man began to whine.
“Who is next?” Graves called out, effectively dismissing the pair of men.
The old chap with the goat hobbled up to the table and handed the lead to the servant boy who stepped forward from the end of the table.
“Good day, Irving,” Sybilla said, glancing at the old man as she adjusted Lucy’s slipping crown. “How is your leg?”
“Much better, milady, and I thank you. I’m here to repay you as I promised. You saved our lives this winter, with that Fallstowe buck to freshen our nanny after we lost our’n.”
“Irving, I’ll not have your only kid,” Sybilla said coolly; one who didn’t know her might have taken her tone for scorning. “Especially since it is a male and you are still without.”
“No, milady, no—your buck was a good’un and give us twins,” the old man said with a smile.
“Be that as it may, I do believe that we are quite run over with billies at the moment. Is that not so, Graves?”
Graves closed his eyes, a long-suffering gesture that was perhaps supposed to be taken as a blink. “Where would we put another goat, Madam?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sybilla said dismissively. “Please take him out, Irving, lest he befoul the floor.”
The old man bobbed a bow before the table, his smile shining in his knowing eyes. “Of course, Lady Sybilla. Sorry to trouble you with it.”
Julian found himself smiling, too.
“Who is next?” Graves called out, a sigh in his voice.
But then Sybilla turned her head suddenly, and her gaze landed on Julian. The corners of her mouth lifted hesitantly, as if she was unused to making such a gesture so early in the day.
Julian looked pointedly at Lucy for a moment, placed his hand over his heart, then held his palm toward Sybilla.
Her smile widened briefly before she addressed the hall. “A short recess, while I attend to other business. We shall resume within the half hour.”
The queue dispersed to the tables and the clerk rose and departed Sybilla’s side with a bow. Julian gained the dais and sneaked up behind his daughter, dropping a kiss on the side of her neck and causing her to squeal in delighted surprise.
